Eye of the Moon (21 page)

If we'd known then that the boys were spies, we might have behaved differently toward them.

The nights next to the river had turned bitterly cold. I was grateful to Kyky for snuggling between Anoukhet and me and warming my neck that night. The next morning, we stamped warmth back into our legs and began gathering our belongings. We thanked the donkey men for the time we'd spent with them. So as not to raise their suspicions, we told them that news of a sick relative meant we had to return to Syene.

We were preparing to leave when the boys from
the river came running to announce soldiers gathering just a short distance south in the desert.

“What sort of soldiers? Egyptian or Nubian?”

“Nubian.”

“Are you sure?”

The oldest of the boys nodded. “My brother is a soldier with the Kushite army. I know these are Kushites. Their tunics have threads of red.”

Tuthmosis smiled. “The time has come.”

I took him by the arm. “Is this the only way?”

“You can't lose heart now, Kara. Not after all this time. This is what we've come for. To raise an army against Wosret!” He moved in closer and whispered, “Just remember, until we know we can trust these Kushites, behave like boys. Two women aren't safe with rough soldiers.” He looked between us. “How good are you both with bow and arrow?”

I shook my head. “I've only ever used a throw-stick.”

Anoukhet laughed as she slapped the dagger on her thigh. “Don't be scared for my part, Tuthmosis. I'm as accurate with a bow as I am with my dagger. I can manage any bow and arrow—or any man, for that matter!”

I saw her eyes flash and imagined she could. She had the height and the legs to draw a bow well—even a longbow.

We pulled on our boots, which were beginning to wear thin, and then gathered our meager belongings, making sure our daggers were in our belts. I felt for my girdle bag to check for the Senet board and my mother's bronze mirror. Then we bade our farewells to the donkey men, left the river behind, and trudged up the arid dunes ahead, with Tuthmosis in the lead.

He and Anoukhet seemed glad to be moving on. But I hung back, fearing the moment we would meet the Kushite army. Fear is not enough to describe what I should've been feeling.

We'd been walking for some time when we reached the crest of the highest rise. Tuthmosis and Anoukhet both stopped dead in their tracks ahead. I struggled to catch up. And then I almost choked at what I saw.

From the opposite rise right to the base of the valley and spread across as far as the eye could see in all directions were soldiers. Hundreds upon hundreds of them. An entire encampment. The noise of them rose up like locusts feeding their way through
a field. Or swarms of angry, disturbed bees.

They stood with their dark oiled bodies gleaming, quivers and bows slung across their backs, sunlight sparking off their metal spearheads and shining against their polished leather shields, looking as if their weapons had just been forged in some fire mine. There were so many of them, so densely packed together, they appeared to be hammered out of one mighty metal sheet that spread itself over this dune and the next and the next. A vast shield of beaten armor.

I couldn't stop the sharp cry that escaped me. My voice echoed out over the dunes.

In one very still moment all went deathly quiet as if every man had heard me. Thousands of eyes turned to look at us.

   
21
   
MEN OF THE BOW

I
felt my legs give way. Tuthmosis gripped me beneath my elbow and held me up.

“Be brave!” he whispered close to my ear. “They're not enemies! They won't harm us! We must find their commander.”

I nodded to show I'd heard, but couldn't speak.

Some soldiers rushed toward us. I cringed and squeezed my eyes shut as I imagined the sound of arrows being drawn and the twang of bowstrings
being pulled. But everything was confused. I scarcely had time to draw breath and fill my lungs with air before we were surrounded and grabbed.

“Stop!” Tuthmosis shook himself free. “I can prove—” But he was hit across the jaw before he could say more.

Anoukhet raised her dagger and showed no sign of putting it aside. It skimmed the skin of a soldier's arm and left behind a bleeding gash. She lunged in all directions before it was knocked from her hand.

“Keep still! A plague of locusts on you, boy!” one soldier shouted as he grabbed her and thrust her hands behind her back.

We were trussed with ropes and led down the soft sand like donkeys or camels. Row upon row of bowmen crowded in on us, beating a slow, frightening tattoo against their shields and cursing into our faces as we passed. The heat and dust and raw smell of them terrified me. I could scarcely look up. The soldiers dragging us shouted at them to make way. The men slowly parted but not without jeering and pulling at our cloaks and shoving us along. I tripped and Anoukhet spit at one soldier and Kyky escaped
from her cloak and went scampering off among them.

In a basin of arid dunes was an area barricaded with shields and staves to form an enclosure. We were shoved along through a horde of soldiers dressed in tunics woven with red thread and tied in such a way that long tasseled fringes hung down in the front. They had armbands of copper and gold and ivory and studs of gold in their ears—every embellishment worn, it seemed, to make them appear more fierce and their bodies more powerful.

We passed through a wooden gateway. Inside the enclosure was an area that seemed more like an entire town. There were shelters for stores and weapons and tented areas, and in the center, a number of raised platforms stood on thick posts cut from trees and were covered by large cloth canopies.

A man emerged from beneath one. His face twisted with annoyance. “Tie them up!” he shouted.

“If we're separated,” Tuthmosis hissed as they jostled us along, “keep to the truth of our story. Remember what I said. I have ways of proving—”

He was given a sharp stamp across the back and his words ended in a groan.

“Keep quiet! The lot of you!” a soldier bellowed. “Take that one away. Keep him apart. He has too much to say!”

They led Tuthmosis away, and Anoukhet and I were each tied to a separate post.

“Hathor, protector of women,” I begged, “goddess of the moon, right eye of Horus . . . protect me! Don't let them take Anoukhet away as well.”

“Stop that!” Anoukhet hissed. “You'll only annoy them!”

I hadn't realized I'd spoken the words out loud. “Where have they taken Tuthmosis?”

She shrugged and then called out to a soldier. “Hey! You! We need water. And we need to speak to someone in authority!”

“You're prisoners. Prisoners can't make demands,” the soldier sneered back at her.

“What have we done to be made prisoners?”

“It's said you were planning an attack.”

“Three people were going to attack an army this size? Have you lost your senses?”

“It's what we've been told.”

“Who told you?”

“Boys from the river at the Belly of Stones. They
spy on newcomers. They said you were whispering things.”

“They're only boys! Not spies! How would they know anything? They were mistaken. We weren't planning anything. We work for the donkey men.”

“Tell that to our leader.”

“Take us to him, then. Or bring him here. Either way, I'll tell him.”

“You're a cheeky one. You'd do well to keep your mouth shut.”

“I'm Nubian and so are you. I'm asking you as a fellow Nubian.”

“You might be Nubian. But the other two aren't. They're
Egyptian
, and Egypt is the enemy.”

“All I ask is water. At least bring me that.”

When the soldier brought her a gourd, she whispered something to him. He threw back his head and laughed. Then he looked over his shoulder at me in surprise and came across to offer me a drink. He went away laughing and shaking his head.

“What? What did you say, Anoukhet?”

“I said I was your slave.”

“My slave? How could that be?”

“I told him you were a high-ranking prince in
disguise. That you bought me as your slave out of the kindness of your heart.”

“Tuthmosis said we should tell the truth!”

“Tuthmosis isn't here. At least now we'll get some action. I said you'd reward them. I asked him to call his leader and to search for Kyky and my dagger as well.”

“What . . . ?” a voice echoed above us through the slatted platform. “Am I to listen to a slave telling me what to do?”

“Not just an ordinary slave. He says his master is an Egyptian prince. He hinted of some exchange. He spoke of the great wealth of the prince. That perhaps something could be arranged.”

“Which one is the prince and which the slave? They both look like ragged dogs.”

The soldier came to the side of the platform and pointed below at us in turn. I looked up at the outline of the man above me but couldn't see the features of his face against the sunlight. He came down a wooden stairway and passed between us into the shadow of the platform, then stopped in front of Anoukhet and looked her directly in the face.

She dropped her eyes. “I'm not the prince, sir. He's there.” She gestured to me.

The man turned to look at me. He was younger than I'd first imagined. He wore the same tunic as the others, armbands of gold, copper, and ivory, a belt of cowrie shells, and a short Nubian wig. His skin was dark and sunburned, but I could see he wasn't Nubian.

He narrowed his eyes as he looked at me. I stared back at him, but his face was still hidden from the light. For a moment he seemed startled. But perhaps I was seeing only shadows beneath the platform. He swirled around and commanded a soldier, “Cut them loose!”

“But—”

“Do as I say!” Then he sent the soldiers away and marched Anoukhet and me up the stairs ahead of him and wrenched the canopy aside. We entered a small, enclosed tented space hung with fighting instruments—bows, arrows, daggers, and finely honed axes and spears with such sharp-pointed blades that I shuddered at the thought of them piercing my body.

I turned to look at the man. Around his neck I saw a glint of blue glass. It was a common sort of amulet. Anyone could have bought a similar one in
any marketplace. But then my heart skipped a beat. I saw the dreadful scar that marked his shoulder. Strapped to the stump of his right arm was a false limb made of wood.

“Can it be . . . ?” I whispered. I stepped toward him.

“Stand back!” he commanded.

His amulet . . . it was definitely a scorpion.
“Katep . . . ? Can it be? Do you not know me?”

He took me by the shoulders and studied my face for a long time as if he wanted to be completely sure.

“
Isikara?
So it
is
you!”